Lost Letters From Our Past
by MonikaFilefan
Summary: While going through their attic in the unremarkable house, Mulder and Scully each find something from the past. Neither one of them knew they existed until now. Takes place post MSIV


**Summary:** While going through their attic in the unremarkable house, Mulder and Scully each find something from the past. Neither one of them knew they existed until now.

Takes place post MSIV

 **References:** (mostly small ones) to the episodes: MSIV, Paper Hearts, The Pine Bluff Variant, Requiem, Syzygy, Agua Mala, Per Manum, Redux II, Millenium, One Breath, Existence and a tiny nod to This. If you have seen all of the episodes you SHOULD get these references while reading.

"Loved you then, love you still. Always have, always will." -Anon

An Unremarkable House

Farrs Corner, VA

Late September of 2018

The early fall air had sent a chill down Scully's ever aching back as she opened the attic window to let the stale, moist air escape. Fall came a little early this year for the North-East so the air outside was thin and cool. The same couldn't be said for the temperature in the attic.

She sighed while rolling her shoulders and stretching out her neck.

Perfect weather outside for a heavily pregnant woman determined to finish the last of her nesting before she had her first contraction.

Being labeled high risk under the Advanced Maternal Age category, had Scully mostly house ridden these last few weeks and made to follow Mulder's ever doting ways while giving them both ample time to ready their home for the new arrival.

Her last minute plan was simple, yet the most important one for her to to feel content with being completely prepared as her due date was just a week away.

The attic held her and Mulder's things from their old apartments back before they went on the run together. Her mother had the most important things to save from each of them put into the Scully family basement storage area, which was more like a bottomless pit of photos, old clothes and childhood crafts. They had both given Maggie the keys to the apartments and instructions on what to keep and what to leave behind. Family photos, memory books, as well awards from throughout their time together in the FBI were the only momentos that survived the years.

The dust covered boxes of memory books and loose photos were what Scully was trying to stay focused on, but her mind started to drift as she pulled a chair over to sit and rest her tired feet that were slowly swelling in her shoes.

Her small photo album of William that she had once kept hidden away was now a center piece in their life, instead of hidden in the back of their closet, buried like it used to be physically and emotionally. William came to them in the middle of the night just weeks after she and Mulder had purposely declared Jackson Van de Kamp legally deceased, to try and throw off any remaining enemies left alive. He had graced them with his presence a few times now; only after he was feeling less threatened by possible unseen forces. Scully still shares their mental bond now and then, as reasurrence.

As Mulder says, it's like recieving a paranormal text message. The visits had become more and more frequent, and they relished each one.

Relief that he was alive was immediate and powerful. The thought of being free from her guilt is what fills her mind every time she lays eyes on her son. On a boy who wasn't meant to be. She'd never dared to believe she could let any of that guilt go. Not until he reassured her that she and Mulder had both done their best for him and proving the insurmountable love for him with their many sacrifices.

Scully had caught William flipping through the photos in that old album every time he came back, even though he tried to hide it. The fact that he was real and that he had even been sitting on their couch was miraculous to her.

The once small baby boy whom she'd held to her breast, sang to sleep, kissed his brown soft hair, and whispered to him how much she and Mulder loved him in his ear every single day, was back in her life now. She'd found herself staring while teary eyed at just the sight of the young man more times than she could count.

So now, there are a few new photos of them all together added to the back of that album. Along with a folded up copy of lab results stating, 'Fox William Mulder and Jackson Van de Kamp 99.9% Paternal Match' shown proudly on the front.

Apparently, governmental experiments, a micro chip programed to cure cancer and infertility, passionate lovemaking, and unwillingly having their bodies altered with alien DNA, could make a superhuman baby boy who looks like Mulder and shares Scully's hard pressed will power.

Passionate lovemaking, assured. Passion and chemistry were surely never ever lacking between to two of them. Just thinking about how they came together should've been enough to bring forth a miracle in itself. God, if she thought anymore about Mulder's body gliding against hers she'd never even get a thing done.

Scully fanned herself with the fresh breezy air coming through the window and returned her eyes to three large brown boxes against the wall.

Now, other memories from the past were what needed to be revived and added to the nursery.

Memories that had been moved from her Mother's storage after her death, had been unopened for nine years.

The nursery was all set as far as Mulder was concerned. The crib was assembled, the dresser stocked full of freshly washed baby clothes, an incredibly soft rocking chair sat angled toward the window, was also adorned with a quilt and readied burp rags. The once stark white walls had been painted a warm grey and robin egg blue months ago; then washed by Mulder per Scully's instructions. The little grey alien head night light by the changing table was where he added his personal touch.

Mulder wanted to make the nursery special since he held onto guilt for not sharing it with Scully the first time around.

It was also his idea to add a line of famous words that had always reminded him of Scully since the day they were partnered. The black cursive letters behind the white frame written by Shakespeare flowed perfectly above the white crib saying, " _And though she be but little, she is fierce._ " He couldn't help but grin just looking at it knowing how fierce his daughter will be with him and Scully as her parents.

Sitting on the floor reading instructions on how to properly install a top of the line carseat, one that resembled a spaceship more than an infant seat in his opinion, had him searching the room for a distraction. He found one when he realized he could no longer hear Scully banging around down in the kitchen.

Mulder hadn't wanted to let Scully out of his sight for too long since, well ever, but the day she had told him she was pregnant had brought out his possessive side for her more than ever. If he was being honest, he knew she'd felt the same way even though Scully still had a hard time letting Mulder know she was just as possessive of his presence. But, neither needed to voice that fact to the other.

They spoke through touch and eye contact like they had since day one.

Neither of them had to say much more than a whispered promise of forever in a church to convey what they were together, and what they had truly always been. In mind, body, and spirit. Knowing being too far apart from one another was just not feasible, and it had never really been that way in last twenty-five years. Those two and a half years they'd agreed to be apart, filled with depression from the both of them, served to only bring them closer together in the long run; as if they were of one flesh.

Ironic though, since they had ALWAYS thought of themselves as an old married couple. Married to the job, yes, but married to each other, too.

The thought of marriage had moved through Mulder's mind more than once since the days and nights spent with Scully in the basement office of the Hoover Building. Yes, he and Scully had exchanged their own vows in a hotel room one stormy night while on the run many years ago. They made promises and exchanged every sentiment of love together other than rings. But the day of their daughters birth, would be the day he would finally give her his family heirloom consisting of one large diamond that had the surname Mulder inscribed inside it's golden band from over fifty years earlier.

A true tangible promise of a forever shared together.

Life was too short and they both knew it. Mulder and Scully had lived twenty-five years of that life together living through the good and the bad. They could now only hope to spend the rest of their remaining years side by side raising children and growing old.

They might just finally get that normal life they had only thought about before in passing.

Sounds broke him out of his musing as he heard footsteps, scraping and thudding coming from above his head. Moving the car seat box off to the side for later, Mulder slowly stood up and stretched out his limbs in search for his other half.

His very pregnant, emotional, yet glowing other half.

After opening up the first box and finding it full of random Lone Gunman articles, Penthouse magazines as well as a couple questionable video tapes that suspiciously starred a redheaded woman in leather on the cover, Scully had shook her head and laughed as she kicked it aside. She couldn't believe her Mother had actually packed all that. She now sifted through the next box with albums of photos, papers and books.

Her due date was just a week away yet it couldn't be creeping along any slower. Her back hurt all the time, her feet were aching and her sleep pattern was now rivaling Mulder's on the insomniac scale. She couldn't wait to hold their little miracle in her arms and see the physical proof of what true love can produce.

Leaning down effectively gave her belly a solid squish, she felt the distinct nudge of a baby's foot pressing up into her ribs, causing her to smile. "Never give up on a miracle indeed, Mulder."

Reaching the bottom, she spotted a large plastic book that held several of her own family photos. She was in search of the rare photo of her Mother, Mulder and herself sitting on her bed with a tiny William curled up against her chest for her to frame and hang in the nursery. The photo was rare not only because Mulder was in it, but because her Mother kept it with her in the album hidden under her bed, or so she thought. Scully hadn't had the stomach to look at it again after she had to give William up, so it went home with Maggie to treasure in private.

Scully was only hoping she would finally find it within the boxes of her and Mulder's old things since she hadn't found it anywhere else. While flipping through the pages of the album, a white paper caught her eye with the words " _Dear Scully_ ," written at the top. It was sticking partially out of a manilla envelope propped up onto the box's side.

Abandoning the photo album, she reached out for the envelope and pulled out what lay inside. Random documents and bank receipts along with copies of Mulder's birth certificate were there, but that's not what interested Scully. The paper was typed, addressed to her, and dated automatically by the computer's document headnotes only as "1998."

Had to be from Mulder, she thought, but she'd never seen this paper in her life. Feeling a jolt of excitement and a little apprehension, she leaned back in the chair resting her wrists on her pale blue shirt that barely covered her belly, and began to read.

Fox Mulder's Apartment

Alexandria, VA

Spring of 1998

Mulder came crashing through his apartment door slamming it behind him. He stripped off his jacket and threw it on the chair in his living room. His anger slowly dissipating into self-loathing as he paced. He was seething about the information that was kept from him while he was undercover with the New Spartans.

Not only was he sickened at having to lie to, and intentionally hurt and push away Scully, but he was just a breath away from being murdered today. His self-loathing came from the fact that if he were killed, he would be leaving Scully behind. She will never be truly alone like he would if their roles were reversed, but she would be left with the burden of his life's demons and unfinished quest to find the truth.

Even with the cold hand of death reaching out to him, he would feel guilt. He had also felt regret. Regret that he'd have to leave certain words left unsaid and feelings buried inside.

His close encounter with execution made him realize a few things today. Most of the feelings he had roll through him earlier, he had already known full well about, but the fact that they were so strong and tangible to him was eye opening.

So even if he would never actually show anyone, he had to get the words that were stuck in his mind and eating away at his resolve out on paper. Nodding his head, he sat down at his computer and started to type.

Dear Scully,

I had to lie to you these last few days and I know that hurt you. Today, after finding myself on my knees with a gun poised at the back of my head, I can tell you that my life never flashed before my eyes like I had believed could happen. The only thoughts that entered my mind that entire time I walked and knelt down in the dirt, were of you. Not the unanswered truth, not even about Samantha, just you Scully. About how I would've gladly given my last breath, just to tell you I loved you.

But now I cannot. Can't let you or anyone see how much I want you. How quick I'd give it all up for you. It's not safe.

It's not that I CAN'T give you that knowledge of how I truly feel for you, but that I WON'T. It's not even the painful thought of being rejected when I'm faced with exposing more of myself to you. The thought of pulling you into me unnecessarily, even more than you already are, is all too frightening.

I don't want your future to be full of dark corners and tainted with my never ending obsessions which will most likely lead me to my inevitable demise. You will not be following me down that dark road, Scully. I won't risk your life being threatened just for having knowledge of the capacity of which I love you. I can't risk losing you again! If for some unknown reason that you feel the same way for me, then even possibly risking your own heart for my stubbornness.

I don't care about my own heart, Scully. It is yours to break or take at your will.

You have suffered and lost so much being my partner and friend so for that, I am deeply sorry. Words cannot and will not express how much I wish I could change the past for you. And I don't know if I should be sorry for the future you will share by my side either.

For me, that's more terrifying than reliving the past.

I have always known this. My life is destined for me to be the torch bearer of the truth, and to wear my guilt like a badge. But that's not something you have to do or be a party to. I won't unload my desire for you at your feet, Scully, you do not deserve that. You deserve so much more!

Sometimes, I even wonder if I might deserve more too. And on lonely nights, I dream that I share so much more with you. Touching your skin and picturing me giving you pleasure is something that I can only do in my dreams, so that is where it will all stay.

Scully, you are my constant and compass in the dark. You guide me when I am lost and my debt to you for that is impossible to repay.

I do hope and dream that maybe one day our future together is fated for a brighter outcome. One with a light at the end of the tunnel.

So, I will not speak of how much I love you. I won't speak about how I care more about you and your strict rationalizing ways than breathing my last breath. Not now anyway.

Mulder saw no reason to sign a letter that he had no intention of letting another soul read. But on an impulse he printed off his thoughts, stuffed it into a manilla envelope that was sitting on top of his desk and shoved it out of his mind.

That's where they needed to stay, out of his mind. Musings of loving Scully cannot be in the forefront of a mind like his own. It's too dangerous, physically and emotionally.

After what happened today, he needed to call Scully soon and hear her voice while she drifted to sleep. Tonight, he needs to be reminded he's still alive.

The thoughts that plagued him were now set free in a self proclaimed therapy session and hidden from the world. Now, all he needed to do was run his body ragged.

An Unremarkable House

Farrs Corner, VA

Late September of 2018

A loud gasp escaped Scully's mouth and she quickly cover it with her fingers. Her eyes filled with hot tears faster than she could wipe them away as they left water stains on the words that Mulder had written years ago.

"My God," came out as a strangled whisper. She thought back to when he could have written this. She struggled to recall what cases they had in that time frame and when Mulder would have possibly lied to her. Lying to each other wasn't something that they just did. Only if it weren't their own idea to. That's when she remembered the governmental weaponized spray that they had both been lied to about. And then she realized that he had never told her about what happened before he ended his cover and arrived at the bank to warn her about the New Spartan's plans.

So he was on his knees just seconds from death, while she stood by waiting for him to return having no idea how close she was to losing him again. Mulder trying to protect her. She shook her head and sighed.

"Jesus, Mulder you never told me!" A pang of sorrow struck her with his words, yet they also gave her comfort in a way that only Mulder could give her. Seeing his emotions on paper made her heart race. She wasn't sure if she was more irritated at his omission or awed at his pouring out of feelings.

Honestly, she couldn't really blame him for not being more forthcoming about how he felt about her. She knows how she herself kept her feelings for him bottled up and hidden away for years longer than she should have. And judging by the time frame, it was soon after losing Emily. Hearing how she could have lost him too, would have broken her already fractured foundation. He wouldn't have wanted to lay that on her shoulders at the time, she knew that much.

Rubbing her temples with one free hand, she closed her eyes and thought of how many times she worried for him throughout the years. Too many to count that's certain. And she sure as hell can't count the times she'd been pissed off at him. But as often as her worries or anger for him plagued her, she had just as many instances of love, pride and affection for him.

That man always could take her from vexation to smitten so quickly that she should've checked herself for whiplash.

Diving into a decade old mind of Mulder, was insanely alluring to her. They were always closer and more personal than best friends should've been back in the day, but this was something very raw and intimate for them at the time.

Scully had always known there were feelings harbored that extended past friendship, especially during her cancer when she had endless time lying in bed pondering her life. She would lay awake at night and wonder if Mulder was in love with her like she was him, and if he was, she'd hoped that her death wouldn't kill him too.

Scully had never dared to talk about the deep feelings she held for Mulder back then. She knows for a fact that she herself had felt that ever growing love for him even before the year dated on this letter, yet they had never actually crossed the invisible platonic line to lovers until close to two years later.

That fated night was destined to happen eventually and it was she who tipped the scale of unresolved sexual tension. She was sitting on her couch after rescuing Mulder from actual dead men trying to kill him on New Years Eve. Having witnessed him bloodied and close to death yet again, reminded her of how their lives were tested daily and in more ways than just physically.

She had experienced an array of emotions that night that she'd been pushing away for longer than she could have even remembered. Watching the couples in Time Square kissing and expressing the love and hope for a new start, sparked resentment for those who were able to do such a thing without any complications or life altering ramifications inflicted by deadly governmental men.

When Mulder kissed her at midnight, he put all those worries out of her mind while intensely putting her life in perspective. She was missing out on something powerful and normal. They both were.

Scully had been in love with Mulder for five years, so she had made herself a resolution to let the last brick fall from the wall around her heart and finally let Mulder in.

Scully will never forget the look on Mulder's face when she told him she had been in love with him for years and was just so damn tired of wasting another day of him not knowing it. She invited Mulder to her bed that night, and then he slowly undressed her like he had done it over and over before- like he'd pictured it a thousand times. Nothing could have prepared her for the strong euphoria that flooded her mind and body like a title wave.

That first time was glorious perfection and utterly erotic, as was the second and third and forth and-

The point was, that Mulders thoughts that were written in the letter made her feel as if they were making love together for the first time all over again.

She could almost feel the tension and raw emotion vibrating through her as she read.

The memories of her own tension and raw emotion during that time, of all the intense hidden feelings she had for him over the years, were more than enough to bring forth a genuine smile and warmth in her chest.

How truly lucky they were to live the lives they had lived long ago, and end up where they are now was an X-File in itself.

Mulders voice rang from attic steps, bringing her back to the present.

The sun shined in through the open window setting off the copper hues and baby blues of Scully, making Mulder pause and smile before he spoke. "Hey, there you are. What are you doing up here? It's muggy and I can actually see dust floating around." Mulder slowly crept up the steps and saw the look on her face. One he's seen before and identified right away as wistful.

Scully made the decision to hold onto this lost letter of the past just for her to keep close. Mulder had not intended for her or anyone to ever see this letter. He wanted those words held secret that's for certain, so keeping another one of his secrets just felt like a natural thing to do. One secret she was grateful to hold.

Taking a swipe at her eye and folding up the paper she cleared her throat, "Uh, just looking through this box of our old things from our apartments that Mom had."

"Looking for anything specific?" Walking hunched over to avoid the lowered attic beams, he knelt down and placed one hand on Scully's thigh and another on her belly.

She lifted her palm to the side of his face just feeling the smooth warm skin as she remembered his words of endearment for her.

"Yes actually. I can't seem to find a photo of my Mom that I really want to see again and hang in the nursery. I'm getting worried that something happened to it." She looked off through the window sighing. "It's been years, too long since I've seen it. Now I'm beginning to wonder if Mom was ever really able to keep it with her when I couldn't."

Mulder reached up and pulled a strand of red away from her glowing pale cheek, noticing the spray of freckles that had popped up in recent months. A memory of a lonely night in late 2014 when Maggie had come to visit him, surfaced. "I think I might be able to help you, Scully. But let's go, it's too dusty up here for you. I'll grab these two boxes and help you down stairs."

Narrowing her eyes at him with a questioning look he just grinned and said, "hey now, the last time you gave me that look was because I had eaten the last of those bran muffins you love so much. And you know I've learned my lesson since then." Mulder squeezed her hand then wrapped his free arm around her waist. "Come on, Scully I'll rub your little feet for you while you rest on the couch. And I might even surprise you."

Scully huffed out a laugh and clutched his hand on her waist, barely able to stand up without his help anymore. "Haven't you learned not to talk about the size of my feet anymore, Mulder? Even when they're swollen. And If I recall correctly, the last time you said something questionable about my 'little' feet, it was followed by you slamming the car door in my face while I not so secretly hated on a certain Detective White."

Mulder cocked his head and laughed. "Well that pregnancy brain you keep on complaining about seems to be functioning at tip top Scully shape to me."

Winking at her and leading the way down the two flights of stairs with the boxes tucked into his hip, he then guided her by the small of her back into her favorite spot on the couch that was surrounded by pillows, blankets, a water bottle, and a cushion that sat next to his bowl of sunflower seeds for her feet to rest on. He had affectionately been calling it the 'love nest' since they had been spending most nights snuggled up in it, talking to her growing bump and feeling their girl kick his hand away.

Mulder sat the boxes on the floor next to her and noticed a familiar looking journal inside one in which he knew belonged to Scully. One that he had been curious about when spending time at her old Georgetown apartment.

Kicking her shoes off, she laid back and actually allowed him to help her get comfy. "By the way, you rarely surprise me now-a-days. But I have to say, you did manage to do that today, Mulder." Scully punctuated that with a lifted brow.

"Oh only today? I guess I'll have to step up my game then." Leaning over and placing a light kiss on her cheek, Mulder snagged the journal and asked, "Scully, mind if I take a peek at this?" She just waved him off with a slight nod as she downed half of a bottle of water. He took advantage of her preoccupation, spinning on his heel, he walked into his office to search for a piece of their past.

Sifting through the organized chaos that only he could navigate through, Mulder pulled out folders and envelopes looking for the photo that Scully was missing. He knew it had to be the one she was hoping to find comfort in, because it was something he himself had found comforting ever since Margaret brought it over to him.

They had reminisced that night about happier times that they shared together. Thinking of her visiting him once every month during his depression was something he actually looked forward to. God, he loved that woman almost as much has he loved his Scully, and that's saying a hell of a lot. He knew how much Scully missed her, especially now, so he was determined to find that photo and frame it before the baby came.

Reaching up to the shelf above his computer, he pulled down a shoe box that he knew held some photos and little notes that he and Scully had written to one another since they bought the house. Yanking it off the top of a book, a canister of pencils toppled over, bouncing off of the journal and bringing loudly it to the floor.

"Shit!" He waited for Scully to holler asking what the hell he was doing, like she usually did when he made a mess, but silence reigned from the living room. "She must've zonked out."

Mulder bent over to pick up the mess of pencils when he saw the journal laid wide open. That's when he noticed something written in Scully's handwriting that he had never seen before. This looked like the same journal that she'd written letters to him in while she battled her cancer. He had read most of what was written back then and had no intention of re reading her darkest thoughts during that painful time in their lives. That, and he never really would need to with the images burned into his memory.

But this was different. Her handwriting was stronger, neat and efficient like her usual penmanship. During her treatment, it was loose and weak. This was at the beginning of her journal and written before her entries from the hospital. Before she found out she was sick.

He briefly wondered if he should even read it, but he did notice it was addressed to him like the other entries had been, and he knew Scully wouldn't mind if he read a couple pages.

Mulder slid on his glasses and leaned back in his office chair. His heart began to pound and he had no idea why. He rested the leather book along his jeans and folded up one knee as he began to read.

Dana Scully's Apartment

Georgetown, D.C.

Winter of 1996

Scully crept slowly into her dark apartment as she locked her door, walking through her living room and flicked on the desk lamp. She was exhausted. Not just physically but emotionally too, after dealing with her and Mulder's latest case with the child murderer and his 'paper hearts'. She was sickened right from the beginning when Mulder told her about the man that he put away with his profile.

The fact that Mulder got into his head was certainly not a shock to her, but the fact that that bastard messed with his mind and made him believe he'd been the one who kidnapped and then murdered Samantha had Scully completely irate. Not only angry at that sicko, but also at the fact that she had front row seats to Mulder's emotional rollercoaster ride and knew she couldn't stop it.

She'd seen Mulder at low points in their partnership but as his best friend, witnessing him in such emotional pain had lit something deep down in her soul that burned with passion. A passion to protect him as much as she could as well as a passion and a need to physically take the pain away. That's a dangerous thought she'd been having for a while now and to be honest, she needed to express it, badly.

It's been building up after every case like bricks on a building. A little bit here and a little more there. She'd pushed it carefully and efficiently away, hiding it deep inside her, but those feelings were starting to push back. She needed an outlet, and fast before something else happened and she could no longer control herself.

Scully shouldered off her jacket and flipped off her shoes as she spotted her new leather bound journal she hadn't used yet. It stuck out to her from the bookshelf, calling to her like it knew she needed it for an outlet.

Yes that's perfect, she thought. Just before touching it she had the brief thought that this was only a temporary band aid on a slowly seeping wound. Just a short-term fix, yet a fix she desperately needed.

Reaching for a pen and the journal, she sat at her desk and put the pen to paper, ready to let loose what was threatening to overflow from her mind.

Dear Mulder,

Witnessing what I have the last few days with our latest case, has brought to light a perspective I have been trying to ignore. The number that Roche did on your beautiful mind had me aching to soothe your pain. Jesus, it always hurts me to see you hurting, yet this time I barely made it through watching you suffer.

My God, Mulder I was preparing myself to do an autopsy on a little girl who could have been your sister! If that wasn't awful enough, I knew nothing I could say or do would make it better for you. No words would be sufficient to satisfy you or me. If I'm being honest with myself, especially me.

That's why the thoughts of me comforting you physically, and not just a hug or a touch, had entered my mind more than once. It wasn't just this scenario, Mulder or just a one time urge on my part. If you only knew how many times I wished I could just lean in and kiss the guilt, pain or anger out of you, or do even more than that. And DO is what I really needed. Those thoughts terrify me in ways that shake my firm foundation that I've spent my whole life building. Not because you're not worth it, Mulder. It's because you are worth it that keeps me awake at night.

Sometimes, you scare the hell out of me. Not just with how I feel about you on a deeper level, but with how reckless and headstrong you can be. Not to mention the times you try and ditch me to protect me when it's me that needs to protect you, too.

There are times within the four and a half years that we've been partners, where I feel like you would walk out onto a ledge and jump if you thought the truth would be revealed that way, leaving me behind. Leaving me, Mulder, please stop trying to leave me! A recent trip to Russia definitely rings a bell with me! Contempt of Congress, Mulder!

And I would do it all again, only for you.

You can anger me and frustrate me to no end, yet lift me up and treat me like I'm the most important person in the world to you, and against my better judgment I love you for all of it.

I've looked through the darkness that can surround us so often and see a new view. And I've come to the conclusion, that the most beautiful view is the one I share with you. No matter what the cost is to you or me at this point, I'm all in with you, Mulder and I don't regret a day.

You have all of me, including my heart. I don't even know if that's a positive thing and I have no real idea when the hell that started. I'm frightened to even attempt telling you how deep my feelings go, because I fear the passion that you have for what you love will in-turn, engulf me.

You have begun to consume me, Mulder.

And the insane thing is, I let it happen. So, I cannot tell you my secret now because of the unknown future we are embarking on. Maybe I'll never be able to. It's too compromising for both of us in our position.

No matter what may happen in the future, just know that it's you and always will be you, who makes me feel complete. No one else. Somewhere along the line, I figured out that we'd go crazy without one another.

I may have lost my heart to you, Mulder, but not my self-control. For now, at least.

Yours,

Scully

Scully tossed her pen down on the desk and heaved a sigh of relief. It felt good, too good to let her secret feelings about Mulder out on paper. If it felt like this when she wrote them, how amazing would it feel to actually speak them? She wouldn't dare. She may be in love with her partner but she surely wouldn't be letting another soul hear about it.

That was the purpose of this whole moment. To get the raging thoughts out of her head without having to put a label on them, to voice them.

She shook her head and shut the journal placing it back on her bookshelf. This was as close to revealing her inner truth about herself as she was going to get at this point. What she needed do was to call Mulder and check up on him after what happened earlier. He had saved a little girl today, yet taken a life in the process.

She had to pull herself together, take a relaxing bath, and fall asleep listening to Mulder's voice. Just like any other night.

An Unremarkable House

Farrs Corner, VA

Late September of 2018

Reading her words left Mulder's jaw hanging open, and his hand gripping the arm of the chair. He was shocked that Scully would write something so forthcoming to him that long ago, even if she never intended on him reading it. Which that fact was pretty obvious to him. Scully had never intended on showing him this particular letter, even though she did plan on showing him her thoughts at one point when the cancer treatment weakened her.

"Christ, Scully! I thought… I had hoped… I'm actually speechless." Mulder ran one hand through his already mussed hair while the other pulled his glasses off and set them on his laptop.

Getting a glimpse into the mind of Dana Scully had Mulder captivated.

He consumed her? Scully was terrified of being in love with him. This didn't come as a surprise to him for her to feel that way back then, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting.

God, he'd known his feelings for her were intense and more than just friends since she was returned from her abduction hanging onto life by a thread, yet he never really wanted to take that step back and analyse those feelings. If her feelings matched his, it wouldn't matter because he had refused to act on them back at that time out of fear.

Reading her inner thoughts from back when just thinking similar things was to be considered taboo, was like reaching for that forbidden fruit and relishing in it's sweet juices. This led him to relish in other less dangerous thoughts about her. Like studying her every expression and tone of her voice.

Mulder had become a kind of Scully reading connoisseur throughout their years together. He was even more of an expert at hiding that fact. He could tell just from the look in her eyes whether or not she was happy, sad, worried, angry, irritated, tired, and even lustful for him.

And Scully's letter contained every one of those emotions.

He just never could hear and see those emotions together when she had her well practiced facade put forth. Only when her guard was momentarily down did he get a peek into her emotions. Mulder would then mentally file that away for reference.

Her eyes always told the secrets of her soul and Mulder knew she had loved him, but loved him in what way exactly, he just didn't know. Not before they finally told one another and moved onto the sexual part of their relationship.

He knew Scully always felt the need to bring his mind peace after cases that seemed to suck the life out of him and to comfort him, yet he never realized back then that she needed to do that because she fell for him. Scully hadn't actually told him she loved him until years later.

Her use of those three words when she finally spilled the beans for the first time, were done entirely on accident. It happened when he had received the results that his sperm count was extremely high and healthy. After his first donation for her at the fertility clinic, Scully had shocked the hell out of him.

It was soon after their very unpleasant and wet case during a Hurricane in Florida. Mulder had stopped by the clinic after his all clear check up from the wounds around his neck. He had called her after he spoke to Dr. Parenti and she was so thrilled that everything was moving forward quickly, that she had slipped up and rushed to reply, "oh great, that's wonderful! God, I love you Mulder. Thank you again for doing this with me! " He had been so hung up on the love part that he had to fib to her about having bad cell phone service and needed her to repeat her whole response. When she repeated herself she sounded flustered, out of breath, and had left out the I love you part.

He had thought, had hoped rather, that his suspicions were correct and that Scully had much deeper feelings for him than just friendship back before she asked him to be a father to her child. Yet, he never expected her to have those strong emotions years earlier than her request to him of fatherhood.

Of course, after they had finally become lovers, they each told one another about when they had started to realize they were in love with each other but neither of them really truly knew when they actually fallen.

Jesus, they really were the worst at communicating their feelings, he thought, as he shook his head.

Scully's letter made him remember just how much of a connection and respect they have always had for each other. Her words of how he was the only one for her, how much she wanted him just how he had wanted her, were titillating.

Mulder completely understood Scully's state of mind when she wrote the letter though. No way would his tight lipped, control seeking, wonderfully rigid yet unbelievably caring, Scully, would've been in the position to share her feelings with him back then. Hell, he remembers writing many letters and random thoughts about his deeper feelings for her in the past as well.

Writing was an outlet for both of them to hold onto sanity. At the point in time of this letter him, his sanity was hanging on by a thread and only Scully was his tether.

He shook his head and to himself and announced to nothing but the walls, "Scully and Mulder, a fated pair for sure."

Closing the journal with a smile he put it up on the shelf next to a photo of him and Scully huddled together at crime scene dated back in 1993.

Running a finger along the frame he felt grateful for the little mementos that served as reminders of their eventual fated union. "Seems like the past has become the present today," he pondered.

Mulder realized he should go wake Scully before she slept right through dinner. He'd learned an unfed Scully was a cranky Scully twenty-five years ago. An unfed pregnant Scully… well that was something he took great care in avoiding.

Grabbing the photo out of the small box he had intentionally came in the office to find, he stood up and pushed in the chair.

Mulder carried out the 4x6 photo of him, Scully, Maggie, and a fresh baby William. He had held that photo for hours after Margaret left that night. His eidetic memory blessed him with the recollection of those few days he had spent with his son and his Scully. Staring at it again, he could see them smiling, moving and talking together just before the camera that was held in Skinner's hands flashed, freezing the moment forever.

Seeing her there with her eyes closed, mouth parted, face relaxed, had sparked memories. Recalling instances where he'd steal extra peeks at her sleeping in the car or a hotel back when they were on a case, fighting off the itch in his fingers to touch her.

Sitting down on the couch next to Scully, he felt a strong urge return her written words of affirmation from twelve years before. Even if she was asleep and had no idea what prompted it, Mulder needed to express a sentiment of love he found utterly fitting for the both of them.

Brushing her warm shoulder with his fingers, he hovered over her ear just barely brushing it with his lip leaving her eyes twitching. "Sam Keen said it best when he talked about love. 'You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.' Love you, Scully."

Her brows furrowed and she bit her lip, then cracked open her eyes and sleepily asked, "are you trying to make me cry?" Sniffling, she sat up and gazed in his smiling eyes surprising herself that Mulder could still make her cheeks flame red. "You know I'm prone to unusual emotional outbursts for me lately. But, I'll give you a pass this time because that was the most romantic way I could've ever imagined being woken up."

Scully reached taking his chin in her hand feeling so adored and said, "thank you Mulder, for loving this particular imperfect person. And your right, I do love you, this imperfect you, perfectly." She moved her hand from his chin to his fingers and squeezed.

They both smiled gratefully as Mulder piped up with tilt of his head and said, "all thanks to that book on love language you gave me for Christmas a while ago. I always did prefer the language of love over ordinary conversations anyway."

She just looked at him for a few moments and huffed out, "Mulder, I gave you that book like six years ago and watched you read the whole thing in two days. You never even picked it up again as far as I know."

Mulder just grinned devilishly and shrugged a shoulder.

"Don't be mad, Scully. You know I remember just about everything. Which is why I didn't forget that I told you earlier I'd surprise you." Lifting up his hand that held the seventeen year old photo Scully was hoping to see again, and laid it on her belly.

"Oh Mulder, you found it. Where was it?" She held the image in awe at how much love was captured with just a click of a camera. Maggie had been looking at William with a proud smile that only a Grandmother could give, while Mulder and Scully gazed at each other with a look of wonder and all encompassing love that only new parents gave. "God, look at us. Look at Mom, she's so happy. She'd be happy this time too." Hot tears brimmed her eyelids that joined the small smile on her face.

"Your Mom came to visit me about five months after we had agreed to separate for a while. She would come and hang out with me about once a month but the time she brought this was on William's birthday." Mulders breath caught and he cleared his throat. "I had talked to you earlier that day and you must have told Margaret that I didn't want you to come over like you sometimes did on weekends, so she came over without calling and waltzed right in to wrap me up in one of her bear hugs. I sort of... had a hard time letting her go."

He smiled a truly honest to God wistful smile. "Anyway, she put that photo for me on the table before she left and I didn't even see it until the next day. I loved it." Scully had a steady stream of tears streaking down her lightly freckled cheeks. They weren't just sad ones either. "Don't worry I'll get a nice frame for it tomorrow, Scully, and hang it where you want it. Maybe I can see if I can get it blown up larger."

Touching her fingers and pressing them to his lips, sent a shiver through both of their bodies. It's always been this way when they touched skin to skin since day one, and they have yet to harness that current of electrifying power.

"Thank you for telling me that, Mulder. She never told me she did that for you, but I'm thankful. That was something special between you and her. She really loved you." Scully swiped her cheeks for the third time that day. When Mulder moved to stand, her slender fingers caressed his hand and held his body close to hers.

"Mulder, I do know you remember just about everything… so where's this rub you promised to award to my little feet?" The smirk on her face was both adorable to Mulder and sexy at the same time.

"Oh Scully, I plan on rubbing a lot more than just your little feet." At that, he knelt down by the cushion that her feet rested on and slowly took each sock off. Mulder rubbed his slender fingers along the bottom of her heel and stroked his thumbs along her arches.

Her eyes fluttered shut almost immediately while her breathing became loud.

Mulder kept his eyes locked onto Scully's just like they did whenever they made love.

Massaging each individual toe with gentle pressure caused Scully's head to rock back against her pillow as a throaty moan escaped her mouth. "Mmm, that's how I like my Mulder," she whispered.

He gripped and applied pressure to her feet, working his hands up from her toes to her ankles as he pushed her pants up to her knees. He'd remembered reading Scully's JAMA article from a few years back on Reflexology and which pressure points illicit the most pleasure. He kept kneading and pressing along her skin, making sure every single one of those points of pleasure were met with purpose.

Mulder had been progressively entering a deep state of arousal that had started as soon as he walked out of his office and laid his eyes on Scully's slack jawed face. Her words she had written for him were like an aphrodisiac, warming him from the inside out. Plus, he always was fascinated with Scully's bare feet and touching them was the icing on the cake.

Hearing her voice and remembering how loudly Scully really could moan for him, set his fate for the rest of the night. Never leaving contact with Scully's skin, he leaned up with one hand snaked around her neck and pressed a warm determined kiss to her lips.

Scully's hands ran up Mulder's biceps and caressed his neck. He was relentlessly kissing her now in between her moans and gasps, even when her fingers ran through his hair and she kept saying his name. Well, trying to anyway.

"Mul-" kiss- "Muld-" harder kiss- "Mulder." Scully pulled back enough to speak, reluctantly leaving his lips. He just looked down at her like a kid who had his favorite toy taken away. Scully wanted to laugh but pouted her lip instead saying, "I'm hungry, Mulder. Feed me?"

His heart skipped a beat. Scully knew Mulder was a sucker for that look. All he wanted to do was bite her pouty bottom lip, but he remembered his earlier thought about avoiding a too hungry pregnant Scully. So taking his own advice, he just kissed her pout instead while he slowly stood and tried to ignore his now raging erection.

Scully nodded her head to his protruding zipper while she softly told him, "save that for later, Mulder."

Walking into the kitchen with a wry smile, Mulder turned and yelled out over his shoulder, "whoever said that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach, must have really been talking about my Dana Scully; pregnant or not."

Chuckling into her fingers that were touching her lips, Scully leaned forward and pulled over the second box Mulder had brought down from the attic. Digging through she noticed there were two slim shoe boxes inside stuffed next to an antique looking jewelry box. Curious she pulled them both out and saw one was labeled "Work" and the other "Personal." She flipped open the box labeled "Personal" and gasped.

Scully knew exactly what the shoe box was full of. Throughout the years of her working with Mulder as his partner, she had written short little post-it notes and reminders to him here and there. She'd place them on the office desk, stick some to his computer at home, slide them under his apartment door, even stick them in his front seat of the car when she'd leave the office before him. They would say anything from "remember to pick up the dry cleaning," to "Skinner is royally pissed about not turning in our reports yet." When they finally passed that line into lovers, her notes became much more heartfelt and graphic.

Mulder had saved them all.

Scully couldn't keep the huge grin off of her face while she sifted through to the bottom of the shoe box and noticed a few envelopes with her name scrawled on the front. Scully hesitated to open them after reading the letter from earlier today, but Mulder was busy clanging pans around in the kitchen and complaining about pinching his finger. She decided to just open one of them and peek.

Inside held pages of handwritten notes in Mulder's familiar penmanship. They seemed to be responses to her notes she had left for him throughout the years but much more detailed, much like the letter she had already read from him. "Oh wow, Mulder."

Scully just skimmed a few of them and seeing words that made her smile like, "you're the best friend ever, Scully," to words that said, "I never want you to leave my bed again." She felt like she was struck with a blow to the chest as her breath hitched and heart ached for him.

Jesus, they loved each other so much back then and that had turned out to only be the tip of the iceberg of how they loved each other today. Memories were invading her mind and Scully wanted to share them with Mulder.

Just then, Mulder called out from the entryway saying dinner would be ready soon. "Mulder look what I found in that box. Our notes we use to leave each other from before William was born." He came over and sat side by side with Scully gripping her knee with one hand and picking up one of the notes from him in the envelope with the other.

Scully studied the expressions on his face as he read. She could pick out love and happiness, but also sadness and guilt. Turning to face her eye to eye she could see the water working the way up and over his eye lids. "Oh don't cry on me, Mulder. These are happy thoughts we shared. Happy memories, remember," she soothed him with a touch to his cheek.

"Scully, I should've given these to you a long long time ago. These thoughts of mine- God, I didn't even realize they were saved after I went missing or after I had to leave you and William." He let out a long ragged breath and laced his fingers with hers. "I just- they could've given you comfort during the times that I was gone, but I never gave them to you. I saved all of your little notes you wrote me because they reminded me that even if I was in my apartment alone late at night, you're words were that physical proof that you were there for me, always."

Scully gripped his fingers harder and nodded, waiting for him to talk as much as he needed to. After the bout of depression that separated them for two years, Scully was never going to shut him out again.

Mulder took a breath and stated, "I was selfish, Scully. I started writing you letters here and there when cases got to me or when I'd receive a certain post-it note from you that would remind me of how much I was holding back... of how much I was cheating myself and you from having something so normal as romantic relationship. Whether it was with me or without me. I honestly thought by not telling you how much I was in love with you when I was just your partner, or just your friend, or just- I regret not telling you, Scully. I wish I had. You deserved that much from me."

Scully sucked in a deep breath and ran her hand up and down his arm, reassuring him. She had done the same thing to him, and the dark emotional secrets from their past were being brought into the light where they belonged. "Don't feel guilty for loving me. I hid my desire for you for way too long back then, just like you did for me. You have never been JUST anything to me, Mulder. You're everything to me."

Mulder let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding while she spoke. "Hey, that's my line, Scully."

His smile over took his face as she replied back, "No Mulder, It's OUR line. And it's the truth. No secrets, Mulder, I know what you wrote me and why you did it. I think I've always known, but back then, we were both too stubborn and scared to do a damn thing about it. We should be looking to all of these messages and use them as reminders that we are so much better together than apart. No more loneliness. No more inner demons and no more lost letters from our past."

Scully reached into the shoe box and grabbed a handful of notes for each of them, placing them in their laps. "Were going to sit here together and remember the past, but make them our future too."

Mulder couldn't have agreed more with Scully in his whole entire life than he did at that precise moment. His heart started to race and he couldn't resist showing her how much he loved and appreciated his other half, how much he always had. Reaching up cupping her cheek, he brought her mouth to his and as their lips did their own familiar dance, their baby girl started hers.


End file.
